Dan in photo:
Somebody Special, Somebody Dead p.252 Backstreets
Mom treated our families to “The Nutcracker Suite” at the Chicago Civic Opera House. For Mom it was a double treat: introducing her five grandchildren to a classic and a chance for her to reflect upon the days when she sang in the chorus. And for Dan in particular, when he was six years old and he sang with her as part of a street scene chorus in the opera “Carmen.” Dan loved the bright lights, the attention, and all the action. Back stage, front stage, and the audience, stuff going on everywhere he turned. It was yet another peek into what he was to become, an insight into his personality.
We all approached the highly polished brass doors and entered the red carpeted lobby. Dan’s husky six foot frame seemed to broaden, as well as his red beard did with a smile, when his eyes zeroed in on the ticket taker. He was a very well-tailored gentleman with full gray hair, about five foot eight, medium build, clean shaven with a boxer’s nose. The gentleman did his simple job with dignity. Dan’s enthusiasm drew our families into his energy field.
“Tony, how the hell are ya, man?” Was Dan’s greeting in a loud whisper and a simultaneous two-handed handshake. You could see the register of a deep insightful look of understanding of where each of them had been together previously. What they are doing now is so very tough, tedious and boring for them trying to stay on a straight and narrow path.
“Mom, this is my friend Tony.” The introductions went on, wives, me, the kids. Tony smiled, shook hands with all and mentioned to Dan that he’d be around at intermission tending the bar.
We found our seats and settled in. Our two families flanked Mom on either side. The performance was well received by all, a totally enjoyable evening. At intermission Dan and I got drinks. Tony asked Dan, “So what are you doing these days?”
“My brother, Tom, got me a job at place called The Lion’s Cut, a classy men’s hairstyling salon.” The conversation was stilted by orders for wine, vodka martinis and Black Russians. We did the polite thing and left Tony to do his job. Dan tucked a business card in Tony’s suit coat pocket.
The next day at work, Dan and I could talk without interruption. He shared this experience with me about him and Tony. Dan was twenty-six when he thought, “Wouldn’t it be great to write a check for whatever amount of money you wanted and not have to worry whether or not you would be overdrawn at the bank.” Dan also found out the U.S. post office uses a custom paint that no one else uses. It was difficult enough to deny possession of a mail bag full of blank postal money order checks and a postal money order machine, let alone the paint chips on his pry bar and paint chips in the car. Tony was thirty-eight when he decided to do a tidy $900,000.00 silver hijacking.
It was a special day for both groups. The kids at the local orphanage always enjoyed the day out with the guys. This was a once a year event. Most of these kids were passed over for adoption because they did not fall into the cutesy category or the ages most likely to be adopted. The picnic-like atmosphere was a little different than most family get-togethers. The team of prison guards supervising the adoptees and their counselors on this day in the sun gave the party an edge of oddness. What a mix…Men that were asked to leave society and kids that were not given the chance to be part of it. The inmates were quick to put together teams and games and the kids loved the attention and enthusiasm that was being generated.
Dan had already palmed a football from the sports table. He and Tony walked through the Leavenworth Penitentiary compound and noticed a mother and her ten year old son that looked like another case of being “left out again.” Tony and Dan approached them. When the guys arrived at the picnic table they saw that the boy’s skin was paper thin. As they found out later he had been burned over forty percent of his body. Parts of his head, arms and hands resembled a patchwork quilt. Some places on his head had hair and other spots were just tightly stretched skin.
Tony gently slapped the boy on the shoulder and said, “Hey, go out for a short one.” Dan handed off the football to Tony as if some magical play was just called by the quarterback. The boy awkwardly received the catch from Tony. “Aw right kid. Great catch!” … and on it went.
The mother was awestruck; these two men didn’t even introduce themselves, which would be inherent, considering their kind of businesses. They just treated her son like nothing was wrong with him. Everyone had always treated him as though he were made of glass, or worse, because he looked so scary and different as a result of the scaring from the fire.
It is amazing to note what some people develop by survival others get by attending classes. Reading people and situations is primarily what N.L.P. (neuro-linguistic programming) is all about; the subject is taught at adult education classes and universities all over the country and costs an arm and a leg for certification. Professional con-men, thieves, good card players and successful salespeople do the same thing the “N.L.P.’ers” do. They just don’t get a piece of paper that says “certified.” They have an ability to read people and situations like a book. Their certification comes under the auspices of “street observation”. Dan and Tony played football with the kid over an hour. Everyone eventually learned each other’s names by way of playing. Joey was the boy’s name; however, Mom remained Mom to all. Joey was enjoying the attention and played so enthusiastically that he even surprised himself. He had never played so long or so hard as to become winded so even that was something new for him.
He took a couple of falls, realized he was okay and came back for more of the same.
After one tumble Joey looked a little dazed. That prompted Dan to say, “My arm is tired do you mind if we rest?”
Tony looked at the kid and told him, “Joey, you got the heart of a lion. How about we give the old guy a break?”
They all took a break and got some hot dogs, lemonades and cokes. Joey was shocked when Dan asked him how his lemonade was and then took a slug out of his cup. Nobody, other than his mom, felt comfortable enough to be that pleasantly forward with him. Joey was accustomed to having people treat him like he had a contagious disease.
The day progressed with a little Frisbee catch and conversation until their food settled. The young boy looked at Tony’s broken nose. Tony said without hesitation, “I got it from boxing. What about you?” Joey hesitated and started to look at the ground. Tony read Joey’s response and quickly said, “Boxing. Do you do any boxing?”
A look of confused relief came over Joey. He would not have to talk about the fire again as he first thought might have to do. Dan brought back a set of boxing gloves; they were by most standards quite thick. The headgear was only for Joey. Tony and Dan had fun coaching Joey as Mom looked on in total disbelief. Tony and Dan both took turns being Joey’s punching bag and showing Joey how to bob and weave, when and how to fake a blow and how to maximize his punches. The two cons did more in an afternoon for the kid’s emotional scars and his self-esteem than any of the head shrinkers were able to do in the previous years.
The loudspeaker announced the end of the picnic. Dan and Tony gave the kid a handshake and a slap on the shoulder, walking away kind of half backwards waving to the mom. Mom ran up to Tony and Dan, shook their hands and thanked them so very much for treating her son like an ordinary normal boy. No one had ever played with him like they had. Her eyes welled up with tears as she mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
“Hey Joey, take care of your mom, she’s a neat lady.” The two men walked through the compound to their respective cells.
Dan was released seven months later after completing his five year sentence. Tony finished his time three years later. Dan went on to own a successful restaurant and bar after five years of cutting hair. Wish I could tell you how Joey is doing. He would be in his forties now.
As for Tony: Some years later at the barber shop I picked up the Chicago Sun-Times. At the top of page twenty-two, May 24, 1979, it read “Hood, Tony Bosellino’s body is identified”. The article went on to talk about how he was in debt to some loan sharks in the amount of $200,000. He took five shots to the back of the head and his body was found by a farmer near the entrance to a Will County forest preserve. His fully clothed body with an expensive watch and diamond studded Christ figure still attached to his body meant that this was a lesson and not a robbery. At least Joey and his mom will always think of Tony kindly.
Mom treated our families to “The Nutcracker Suite” at the Chicago Civic Opera House. For Mom it was a double treat: introducing her five grandchildren to a classic and a chance for her to reflect upon the days when she sang in the chorus. And for Dan in particular, when he was six years old and he sang with her as part of a street scene chorus in the opera “Carmen.” Dan loved the bright lights, the attention, and all the action. Back stage, front stage, and the audience, stuff going on everywhere he turned. It was yet another peek into what he was to become, an insight into his personality.
We all approached the highly polished brass doors and entered the red carpeted lobby. Dan’s husky six foot frame seemed to broaden, as well as his red beard did with a smile, when his eyes zeroed in on the ticket taker. He was a very well-tailored gentleman with full gray hair, about five foot eight, medium build, clean shaven with a boxer’s nose. The gentleman did his simple job with dignity. Dan’s enthusiasm drew our families into his energy field.
“Tony, how the hell are ya, man?” Was Dan’s greeting in a loud whisper and a simultaneous two-handed handshake. You could see the register of a deep insightful look of understanding of where each of them had been together previously. What they are doing now is so very tough, tedious and boring for them trying to stay on a straight and narrow path.
“Mom, this is my friend Tony.” The introductions went on, wives, me, the kids. Tony smiled, shook hands with all and mentioned to Dan that he’d be around at intermission tending the bar.
We found our seats and settled in. Our two families flanked Mom on either side. The performance was well received by all, a totally enjoyable evening. At intermission Dan and I got drinks. Tony asked Dan, “So what are you doing these days?”
“My brother, Tom, got me a job at place called The Lion’s Cut, a classy men’s hairstyling salon.” The conversation was stilted by orders for wine, vodka martinis and Black Russians. We did the polite thing and left Tony to do his job. Dan tucked a business card in Tony’s suit coat pocket.
The next day at work, Dan and I could talk without interruption. He shared this experience with me about him and Tony. Dan was twenty-six when he thought, “Wouldn’t it be great to write a check for whatever amount of money you wanted and not have to worry whether or not you would be overdrawn at the bank.” Dan also found out the U.S. post office uses a custom paint that no one else uses. It was difficult enough to deny possession of a mail bag full of blank postal money order checks and a postal money order machine, let alone the paint chips on his pry bar and paint chips in the car. Tony was thirty-eight when he decided to do a tidy $900,000.00 silver hijacking.
It was a special day for both groups. The kids at the local orphanage always enjoyed the day out with the guys. This was a once a year event. Most of these kids were passed over for adoption because they did not fall into the cutesy category or the ages most likely to be adopted. The picnic-like atmosphere was a little different than most family get-togethers. The team of prison guards supervising the adoptees and their counselors on this day in the sun gave the party an edge of oddness. What a mix…Men that were asked to leave society and kids that were not given the chance to be part of it. The inmates were quick to put together teams and games and the kids loved the attention and enthusiasm that was being generated.
Dan had already palmed a football from the sports table. He and Tony walked through the Leavenworth Penitentiary compound and noticed a mother and her ten year old son that looked like another case of being “left out again.” Tony and Dan approached them. When the guys arrived at the picnic table they saw that the boy’s skin was paper thin. As they found out later he had been burned over forty percent of his body. Parts of his head, arms and hands resembled a patchwork quilt. Some places on his head had hair and other spots were just tightly stretched skin.
Tony gently slapped the boy on the shoulder and said, “Hey, go out for a short one.” Dan handed off the football to Tony as if some magical play was just called by the quarterback. The boy awkwardly received the catch from Tony. “Aw right kid. Great catch!” … and on it went.
The mother was awestruck; these two men didn’t even introduce themselves, which would be inherent, considering their kind of businesses. They just treated her son like nothing was wrong with him. Everyone had always treated him as though he were made of glass, or worse, because he looked so scary and different as a result of the scaring from the fire.
It is amazing to note what some people develop by survival others get by attending classes. Reading people and situations is primarily what N.L.P. (neuro-linguistic programming) is all about; the subject is taught at adult education classes and universities all over the country and costs an arm and a leg for certification. Professional con-men, thieves, good card players and successful salespeople do the same thing the “N.L.P.’ers” do. They just don’t get a piece of paper that says “certified.” They have an ability to read people and situations like a book. Their certification comes under the auspices of “street observation”. Dan and Tony played football with the kid over an hour. Everyone eventually learned each other’s names by way of playing. Joey was the boy’s name; however, Mom remained Mom to all. Joey was enjoying the attention and played so enthusiastically that he even surprised himself. He had never played so long or so hard as to become winded so even that was something new for him.
He took a couple of falls, realized he was okay and came back for more of the same.
After one tumble Joey looked a little dazed. That prompted Dan to say, “My arm is tired do you mind if we rest?”
Tony looked at the kid and told him, “Joey, you got the heart of a lion. How about we give the old guy a break?”
They all took a break and got some hot dogs, lemonades and cokes. Joey was shocked when Dan asked him how his lemonade was and then took a slug out of his cup. Nobody, other than his mom, felt comfortable enough to be that pleasantly forward with him. Joey was accustomed to having people treat him like he had a contagious disease.
The day progressed with a little Frisbee catch and conversation until their food settled. The young boy looked at Tony’s broken nose. Tony said without hesitation, “I got it from boxing. What about you?” Joey hesitated and started to look at the ground. Tony read Joey’s response and quickly said, “Boxing. Do you do any boxing?”
A look of confused relief came over Joey. He would not have to talk about the fire again as he first thought might have to do. Dan brought back a set of boxing gloves; they were by most standards quite thick. The headgear was only for Joey. Tony and Dan had fun coaching Joey as Mom looked on in total disbelief. Tony and Dan both took turns being Joey’s punching bag and showing Joey how to bob and weave, when and how to fake a blow and how to maximize his punches. The two cons did more in an afternoon for the kid’s emotional scars and his self-esteem than any of the head shrinkers were able to do in the previous years.
The loudspeaker announced the end of the picnic. Dan and Tony gave the kid a handshake and a slap on the shoulder, walking away kind of half backwards waving to the mom. Mom ran up to Tony and Dan, shook their hands and thanked them so very much for treating her son like an ordinary normal boy. No one had ever played with him like they had. Her eyes welled up with tears as she mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
“Hey Joey, take care of your mom, she’s a neat lady.” The two men walked through the compound to their respective cells.
Dan was released seven months later after completing his five year sentence. Tony finished his time three years later. Dan went on to own a successful restaurant and bar after five years of cutting hair. Wish I could tell you how Joey is doing. He would be in his forties now.
As for Tony: Some years later at the barber shop I picked up the Chicago Sun-Times. At the top of page twenty-two, May 24, 1979, it read “Hood, Tony Bosellino’s body is identified”. The article went on to talk about how he was in debt to some loan sharks in the amount of $200,000. He took five shots to the back of the head and his body was found by a farmer near the entrance to a Will County forest preserve. His fully clothed body with an expensive watch and diamond studded Christ figure still attached to his body meant that this was a lesson and not a robbery. At least Joey and his mom will always think of Tony kindly.
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